The global pandemic of 2020-2022 cost millions of people their lives, their health and their futures. For those who survived or escaped the direct ravages of the disease, suffering came in other forms. For small business owners all over the world with most, if not all, of their customers in lockdown, their business traffic evaporated almost overnight.
Their fixed costs–like rent, utilities, inventory, equipment and staffing didn’t go away. So, hard decisions had to be made on how to hold on to as many loyal staff as possible, pay the rent and keep going, if only for the few customers that would or could venture out or order in.
As the pandemic recedes, it’s clear that the costs of this dreadful disease will linger far longer than its immediate impact. Supply chain shortages, reduced inventories and the resultant reduced options available to customers and, beyond reduced options–actual shortages in things as mundane as straws, napkins and large size soda cups means a new normal will take some getting used to.
For those who lost loved ones to the disease or who, themselves, were horribly affected, for those who lost their jobs, their businesses and their opportunities, not being able to get soda cups in the preferred size seems incredibly trivial. But, with the big, real challenges, business owners know that the seemingly trivial ones can still affect their ability to move forward.
Which is where I found myself the other day–with a trivial challenge. I was at my favorite old-style drive-in restaurant to pick up a gallon jug of our favorite locally brewed root beer. When the car-hop (yes, in 2022 there are still car-hops in America) asked me for my order, I said, “I’d like a gallon of root beer, please.” She looked concerned, but said nothing. In a few moments, she returned to tell me they had run out of gallon jugs for the root beer. “No problem, I replied, put it in two half gallon jugs”. Off she went, only to return and tell me that those were out of stock, too. But, she said, the manager says if you’d be okay with it we could rinse out one of our empty one gallon milk jugs and fill it with root beer.”
Who would have thought that in 21st century America, with all of our wealth, resources and myriad options for everything, I’d be deciding between “no root beer” or “root beer in an old, rinsed milk jug”?
And yet, here we were. I told the woman I’d be thrilled to get it in the milk jug. And that’s what I got. She was back in a flash with a root beer in a jug from our local dairy, clearly labeled as containing milk. There is probably a regulator or inspector losing their mind right now but, the jug was washed and sterile and I knew it was not milk–the label never fooled me for a minute.
The two of us–the car hop and me–had found a situation neither of us would have ever predicted, – where we needed to work “with” each other in very creative ways. Sure, it was just a gallon of root beer and doing without would not have been any great deal. But, it was also this magical moment when working with each other made it possible for them to satisfy a customer and for me to remind myself how amazing their root beer is. Not in a big way, but in a way that will cause me to never look at a milk jug the same way ever again.
